


“Good?” “Good.”

by Grendoc



Category: Fables: The Wolf Among Us (Video Game), Gorillaz
Genre: Alternate Universe, Choking, Crooked Man AU, Crossover, Enemies to Lovers, Feel free to ask for more information about the AU because it’s fuckin sick dog, Grendel is the crooked man, Gunplay, Hate Sex, Hitman AU, Loss of Virginity, Love/Hate, M/M, Stomach Bulge, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Unsafe Sex, Very much a play on a ‘oh no mister bond you’ve tied me up’ type situation, Yes they’re both assholes., anyways here’s wonderwall, porn with (some) plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:17:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21817264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grendoc/pseuds/Grendoc
Summary: It’d been him who’d thrown his leg over his captive’s lap, and it’d been him who’d cut his ties – Grendel, who’d opened his mouth for the barrel and sucked it down past his rigid hard palate, almost all the way down to his throat.
Relationships: Grendel (The Wolf Among Us)/Murdoc Niccals
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	“Good?” “Good.”

“Doesn’t that hurt?”

Murdoc smooths his palm over the shape of himself in Grendel’s lower belly. Grendel inclines his head to watch. There’s a push upward that buries him deeper, and Gren tightens his fist around Murdoc’s throat, seething through his teeth.

“Should I stop?”

“I’ll fucking kill you if you stop.”

“Noted.”

The muzzle of the .22LR tickles Grendel’s inner thigh, hair soft on steel. His tongue slides over his teeth, rolling his thumb over his would-be assassin’s adam’s apple. Weight is taken by his knees as he eases himself upwards, then sinks again, feeding Murdoc’s cock back into him. It’s the first time he’s taken anything – anything besides his own fingers, anyway – something Murdoc knows without him voicing it. The crooked man makes a soft crooning sound, pink in his cheeks, and Murdoc _knows_.

“You like it, don’t you?” He pushes on the bulge in Gren’s gut, the heel of his hand grazing him above the cunt, just below the navel. Grendel hiccups, a tremor running through his legs; Murdoc tucks the barrel of the gun into the soft space behind his knee and rasps, “You _do_ like that, you _naughty_ boy.”

He isn’t wrong.

There’s no condom. There’s no safety. Grendel rides his cock and stares at the silencer as his killer strokes him shin to hip with a pistol and knows, with all his heart, that he’s an idiot for this: for actively seeking out that kind of danger. But it’d been him who’d thrown his leg over his captive’s lap, and it’d been him who’d cut Murdoc’s ties – Grendel, who’d opened his mouth for the skinny barrel and sucked it down past his rigid hard palate, almost all the way down to his throat. It’d been his decision, and it’s his decision, now, to drop his hand from the chokehold he’s got on him and grip a tit, instead. Flesh. Heat. He can hear the hitman’s blood in his veins; Murdoc’s pulse isn’t half as fast as his own. Murdoc is used to this, Murdoc is better at this than him, Murdoc pulls back and pushes in again so hard Grendel can feel something shift inside of him and he curls forward and cries out and he’s _furious_ , so fucking furious he could scream.

Then Murdoc drops the gun, grips his hips, and holds him still while he drives up into him until Grendel loses the will to be angry at himself.

Forty minutes feels like days. Bliss twists Grendel’s body on top of Murdoc’s before he’s rolled beneath it, knees against his ears, Murdoc’s hands planted firmly underneath the backs of his thighs. He’s set on all threes and entered from the back, swallowing moans until Murdoc squats above him and fucks him so viciously he stops thinking at all. Murdoc picks him up, at a point, when Grendel is drooling; Grendel scrabbling at his wrists as he holds him wide, wide open, mortified at the vulnerability with whatever brainpower he has left. Grendel upside-down, hanging off the edge of the bed, silk sheets kissing his bruised and bloody back. Grendel and Murdoc, side by side, holding each other’s necks as Grendel helplessly, senselessly fucks the hitman’s cock into him, pulling himself into his body with a leg around his waist. They face each other until they can’t anymore — until Grendel starts to cry.

At some point, Grendel kisses him. At some point, Murdoc forgets the gun exists at all. At some point, their bodies still, and Murdoc fills Grendel, and Grendel whimpers, biting the tips of his fingers, and wonders what the cold, hard thing biting into the small of his back could be.

When they wake the next morning, it’s breakfast and a shower, absent of conversations they aren’t ready to have. The crooked man regards the hitman over a plate of french toast, and the hitman nods to him, nursing coffee black.

“You gave me a hickey,” the crooked man says.

“Good.”

“Good? Someone’s gonna _see_ that shit.”

“ _Good_ ,” the hitman insists, with something that’s almost a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> The AU in question is based off a years-long ongoing RP between a friend and I wherein Grendel takes the place of the Crooked Man after the Crooked Man’s trial at the end of TWAU-S5, and Murdoc was conditioned into a hired gun. Grendel’s been causing problems for the fat cats up top; Murdoc’s been trying to squash the roach in their vents before he puts them out of business.
> 
> It hasn’t been going well for anyone involved.


End file.
